


Improbable

by dracoommalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, M/M, One Shot, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoommalfoy/pseuds/dracoommalfoy
Summary: Harry Potter's name gets called from the Goblet of Fire and, at once, everyone hates him. With the first task approaching, he needs help, and turned to the only person who didn't start hating him. Draco Malfoy.Well, only because he hated Potter long before the Goblet.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 384





	Improbable

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey have two much longer writings in the works but i just felt like writing something small asf so here we are :)

"Harry Potter!"

Harry Potter blanched.

The entirety of the Great Hall turned in their seats, all eyes scanning the room, trying to find the lanky, messy-haired, green-eyed fourteen year old that was sinking lower and lower in his chair as the seconds passed. Of course. Of course his name had somehow gotten into that bloody cup and of course he couldn't have the peaceful year he was hoping for. In all honesty, Harry and Ron had planned to make bets and watch the Tournament with excitement. Guess that wasn't happening now.

"For God's sake, Harry, _get up_!" Hermione hissed, roughly shaking his arm and snapping him out of his thoughts and back to reality. Most of the eyes that had been scanning the room had found him, and he gulped nervously as he slowly raised from the bench.

He looked straight ahead as he walked, wiping his shaky and sweaty hands on his trousers as he made his way closer to the High Table. After three years of being in the spotlight, he had learned one thing. Never show your nerves. It would only encourage everyone. So, he ignored the jeers and protests about him being "too young" and a "cheat", and looked Dumbledore square in the eye.

When Dumbledore said nothing, Harry continued on. He passed Snape, McGonagall, and Moody, using his willpower not to wither under their stares as he made his way to the back room where Cedric, Fleur, and Krum would be waiting.

The next fifteen minutes went by in a whirlwind. Between watching Moody argue with Karkaroff about _something_ , watching Madam Maxime fix Harry with a deathly glare as her and Fleur mumbled in furious French with one another, watching Dumbledore converse with McGonagall, Snape, and Crouch about what was to be decided, Harry began to feel very dizzy. He wanted nothing more than to go and find Ron, crash onto Ron's bed, make Ron shove him onto his own bed, sleep, then complain to Ron.

Ron never knew what to do. But he always knew how to distract Harry.

Hermione, on the other hand, would be far more challenging. She'd ask questions. Probably ones Harry didn't have answers to, and probably ones that would stress him out. 

He just wanted this nightmare of a conversation to end. Hell, it wasn't even that. Harry hadn't said a word.

In the end, it was decided by Barty Crouch that Harry was to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. He was now binded into a magical contract that couldn't be broken and would be performing in three tasks over the course of the year.

Brilliant.

As soon as possible, Harry escaped the tensed group and made his way, glumly but quickly, to Gryffindor Tower. He almost let out an audible sigh of relief when he opened his dorm door and found Ron there. He had just walked through the common room, shoulders tightening at the stares and whispers he had gotten. Nothing new, however. Ron was busied with his own stuff, so Harry first got changed into his pyjamas and brushed his teeth. When he left the bathroom, Ron was still uncharacteristically quiet, so Harry settled at the end of his bed, head leaning back against the frame of the four-poster.

"How'd you do it?" Ron asked, finally saying something. Harry's head snapped over to him. "Oh, nevermind. It doesn't matter." Ron bitterly made his way over to his own bed. Harry turned to look at him. "You might've let your best friend know, though."

"Let you know _what_?" Harry asked irritably.

Ron turned to glare at him as he muttered, "You know bloody well what."

Harry then realized it. Ron was angry. Ron was upset, just like everyone else, and Harry would not be finding the comfort he wanted in his best friend. "I didn't _ask_ for this to happen, Ron," He said, feeling betrayed. "Okay? You're being stupid."

"Yeah, that's me. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's _stupid_ friend," Ron mumbled, laying down in his bed and pulling the covers up. Harry opened his mouth, utterly appalled at what Ron was saying. He looked to Neville and Seamus for help, but they just turned away.

He got up off and walked over to Ron's bed, looking down at the angered ginger boy. "I didn't put my name in that cup. _I_ don't want eternal glory, I just want to be..." He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Look, I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why, it just _did_. Okay?"

But Ron just glared and turned on his side in his bed, holding the covers to his chin. Harry huffed and went back over to his own bed. He looked back at Ron once more, only to be met with the words "Piss off."

\- - -

When Harry woke up every day after that, he kept hoping it was all some horrid nightmare. It wasn't. Every day for the next two weeks, until he faced reality, he had to deal with Ron ignoring him, dirty looks and insults from _everyone_ , and only Neville and Hermione to keep him company. They weren't great options, either. Hermione, when she wasn't with Ginny and Ron, would just badger Harry about the Tournament. Neville only talked about Herbology and plants, which bored Harry to death.

Still, he wasn't totally ungrateful. At least Neville and Hermione talked to him at all.

However, they weren't very helpful when it came to walking past Malfoy. With Ron, Harry had been able to complain about the blond prat's jeers, but it wasn't the same with his new company. Neville just turned crimson at Mafloy's insults and Hermione insisted on ignoring him when Harry was in the mood to argue with him.

Today was not any better than any of the others. In fact, today was _worse_. Today Harry had promised himself he'd go and talk to Cedric to warn him about the first task. Which, unfortunately, happened to be bloody dragons. Hagrid had shown them to Harry last night, and Harry had blinked in surprise when he remembered Hagrid had almost kept a Norwegian Ridgeback as a pet. There had been a Norwegian Ridgeback amongst the group of dragons, and Harry thought it was the most terrifying of the pack.

And, now, out of simple courtesy, Harry was on his way to the courtyards to look for Cedric and tell him about the dragons. It didn't take long, either, for he was surrounded by his fan club of Hufflepuffs. As he walked under the stone archways, students flashed their _Potter Stinks_ badges at him. Malfoy was quite proud of them and wouldn't shut up about the fact that he had made them himself. Harry, reluctantly, and to himself, had admitted that it was really quite impressive.

As Harry passed through the archway into the courtyard, he bumped into a taller figure. Ron, walking with Seamus. Harry glared at him and said, "You're a right foul git, you know that?"

Glaring with an equal amount of ferocity, Ron scowled, "You think so?"

"Know so."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Stay away from me."

Ron rolled his eyes and walked away, Seamus still at his side. Harry, still bubbling with anger and wanting to get this done and over with, arched up to Cedric and asked to talk to him privately. They stood a few feet away from Cedric's fan club, and the older Hufflepuff frowned at Harry. "Look, Harry, about the badges- I've asked them to stop wearing them-"

"No, it's fine, I don't care," Harry said hurriedly. "Dragons. That's the first task."

This surprised Cedric. He asked a few questions Harry couldn't answer, and then Harry walked off, desperately wanting to retreat to the secure area of his four-poster, with the curtains drawn around him. However, of course, he was stopped by none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Why so tense, Potter?" That familiar and annoying voice called. Harry couldn't help but do a double-take when he looked up to see Malfoy sitting in a tree. Harry smirked and rolled his eyes, the git had probably only gone up there to seem cooler than he was. "My father and I have a bet, you see. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in the Tournament."

Stopping beside the trunk, Malfoy jumped down and smirked, walking over to Harry. "He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five."

Harry had had enough for one day. "I don't give a damn what your father thinks, Malfoy!" Harry reached out and shoved the taller boy's chest. "He's vile and cruel. And you're pathetic."

For a split second, Harry thought that he actually had seen hurt on Malfoy's face, but the next second it had been replaced by his usual scowl. Harry was about to turn and go, but he caught sight of the _Potter Stinks_ badge, reflecting in the sunlight.

Yes, Malfoy was pathetic. But, yes, Malfoy was also very smart.

Just as Malfoy was opening his mouth to argue, Harry cut him off. "Malfoy."

The blond blinked in surprise. Harry hadn't said it with menace or anything, just said it. "Potter..." He trailed off, looking at Harry suspiciously. "Forget who you're talking to? Bloody hell, Potter's gone mad already!"

"Malfoy, come with me," Harry said, taking the taller boy and his gang of Slytherins by surprise. Harry turned and began walking towards the castle. He looked back over his shoulder to find the boy standing shock-still. "Coming?" Harry called, turning back around. From the sound of footsteps, he knew Malfoy was following.

This was confirmed when, with his damned long legs, Malfoy caught up to Harry and feel in stride with him. "What are you playing at, Potter?" He narrowed his eyes down at Harry, still suspicious of him. Which, he had every right to be. They regarded each other with insults, and now Harry was actually being _civil_ with the boy.

"Listen, you hate me, right?" Harry raised his eyebrows as they entered the school, and Malfoy said nothing. "Well, you definitely don't _like_ me, at least. But that started a while ago, not because of the Tournament. So, I won't lie- I need help. And who better to ask than you?"

Malfoy was shocked. He cleared his throat, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't _arguing_ with Harry right now. "Um, well, I could really name a list of people better to ask. Why bother me with your shit? Do you think I care enough?"

Harry grinned, leading Malfoy to the library. "Nope. And that's precisely why I've asked you."

Raising an eyebrow at Harry, the blond shook his head and sighed, "You make no sense, Potter."

Nodding, Harry yanked open the door to the library and walked in, not bothering to hold it for Malfoy. They didn't have to be _that_ civil. He led the Slytherin to a back table near the corner where they wouldn't get stares because a) Harry always got stares, and b) they were together and they weren't fighting. He sat Malfoy down, much to his protest, since he kept demanding to know why Harry had brought him there. Once he shoved the boy back into a chair, he skimmed the aisles, looking for a book on dragons.

Once he found the right one, he went back to their table and sat across from Malfoy, slamming the book in front of him. Malfoy didn't jump, but arched one pale eyebrow as Harry grabbed at his messy black hair.

"You look stressed," Malfoy smirked.

"Oh really?" Harry spat, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Don't say a bloody _word_ , Malfoy, or I'll have your head. But- I have to fight a dragon. For the first task. Well, not fight it, I suppose, maybe _collect_ something? Ugh, I don't know."

Malfoy, though surprised, just leaned his elbows on the table and said lowly, "Why are you telling me this, Potter?"

Harry flung his arms. "Because I've got no one else to tell! Because nobody will talk to me and although you only insult be at least you're saying _something_." He dropped his head in his hands, seeing stars as he pressed his palms at his eyes, tossing his glasses onto the table.

"Potter."

Harry grunted.

"Potter- would you stop that?"

Harry was now tugging at his hair again. He didn't stop.

"Potter, look at me!" Malfoy huffed, growing agitated.

Harry dropped his head on the table.

"Harry."

That got him looking up. Draco had said his first name- and not in the spiteful tone it usually came out in. Harry sat up, shoving his glasses back on and looked at Malfoy, who was chewing his lip and looking at the book in front of him.

"Draco."

His eyes snapped up and Harry saw that they were a cool shade of melted mercury, but if he tilted his head, they could be blue. It amazed Harry how he had never noticed how brilliant Draco Malfoy's eyes were.

Of course, he didn't know that Draco Malfoy was thinking the exact same thing he was. He knew Harry's eyes had been green- everyone knows that. But what he didn't know was that they were a deep forest green on the outside and gradually faded to lighter shades until it got to the pupil.

They both snapped out of it at the same time, looking away and blushing slightly until Draco cleared his throat and pointed to the book. "Look, this won't help you. You can't research a dragon if you don't know which one you're fighting, because they're all different."

Harry groaned and almost dropped his head again, but Draco's next words stopped him.

"The book won't help," Draco nervously chewed his bottom lip again, then grinned ever so slightly. "But I will."

\- - -

Ron could hold grudges and stick to them for a long time, but when word got around that Harry Potter was hanging out and spending a lot of time with Draco Malfoy, even _Ron_ forgot his anger and spoke to Harry out of pure shock.

" _Malfoy_? Blood hell Harry, what are you _doing_?"

Harry, who had grown to be quite pleasant when in Malfoy's company, glared at the redhead. "Well I haven't exactly got _you_ around anymore, now have I?"

"But Malfoy?"

"Would you stop saying his name like that?" Harry snapped. "And Draco's not... as bad as we thought. He's actually been quite helpful, and he's pretty funny, really..." He trailed off at the look on Ron's face. "What?"

"Oh so Malfoy's _Draco_ now?" He scowled.

Harry scowled right back, grabbing his bag off the chair next to his bed and standing up. "I'm not dealing with you- with _this_ \- right now. The task is in two days and I have to go meet with my _friend_ who actually wants to help me."

As Harry made his way to the library, he let his thoughts get the best of him. Sure, over the past few weeks, he and Draco had spent everyday together, the old insults turning into playful teases. They had started using each other's first names, albeit strange at first, but it now stuck. Harry had found himself staring at Draco's eyes a lot more, but he couldn't stop. Draco was usually staring right back, anyways, so they would just blush and look away before starting a new topic of conversation.

So, all in all, yes, they quite acted like friends. But, were they? Could you really go from three years of being enemies to just suddenly being friends over three weeks?

When Harry got to the library, Draco was already there. Harry dropped his bag into the chair diagonal from Draco and sank himself into the one across from him. He then frown and rested his chin in his hand, staring out of the window they were sitting by.

Draco looked up from his book. "Good, you're here. Listen, I brought some heavier stuff we could try the _Accio_ charm with, and with enough practice, I reckon you'll be able to get your broom- what's wrong?"

Harry snapped back and looked to Draco, who was frowning. "Hm? Oh, nothing..."

Scoffing, Draco arched a brow up and leaned forward. "Harry."

He had to look away. Harry hated when Draco did that. When he leaned forward. When he smirked lightly. When he arched that _goddam brow of his_. It did something terrifying to Harry's heart. Honestly, he's surprised he hadn't needed to gone to Madam Pomfrey yet.

"Are we friends?" Harry asked quickly, then, from the look on Draco's face, wished he hadn't.

However, the answer he received wasn't the one he expected. "Of course," Draco said quietly.

"What?" Harry blinked, stupidly.

"Yeah," Draco shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but Harry could tell he was nervous. "We act like friends, don't we? I mean you practically _dragged_ me in here to be your friend." Draco gestured to the table, grinning a little. Then, showing off his incredible French accent, he said, "I guess you could call us _improbable_. Unlikely."

Trying to contain his happiness, Harry nodded. "Okay. Yeah. We're friends. And piss off, I did not _drag_ you."

Draco let out a bitter laugh and shook his head, his grin full now. "Oh yes you did."

"Still," Harry smirked, leaning back in his chair, "You're the one who came back."

Maybe before three weeks ago Harry would've expected a scowl paired with an insult. Maybe a week and a half ago he would've expected a shrug with a tease alongside it. What he expected now, he didn't know, but it definitely didn't include Draco smiling and saying "Yes, that I did."

Which is exactly what he did.

\- - -

The hospital wing doors burst open, much to the annoyance of Madam Pomfrey. Harry sat up quickly, wincing from the cut near his ribs, but not caring. He had done it. He'd successfully summoned his broom, gotten the egg from the dragon, and made it out alive and in one piece. He insisted on finding Draco, but Pomfrey had rushed him up here instead.

"Where is he? Is he alright?" Came the worried voice of Draco. Harry grinned and swung his feet out of his bed.

"Mr. Malfoy, _please_ , I must ask you to leave-"

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, clambering fully out of his bed and walking around the screen covering him. He still wore his champions uniform and his face was grimy and he probably stunk of sweat.

Draco didn't seem to care about any of this. His face split into a smile and he rushed forward, throwing his arms around Harry's neck, hugging him tightly. This caught Harry by surprise. He couldn't remember if he ever hugged Ron, let alone as happily and passionately as Draco was hugging him.

Then again, Draco wasn't Ron. And what Harry had with Draco wasn't the same as what he had with Ron. He didn't know why, yet, but he'd get there.

For now, he settled on wrapping his arms tightly around Draco's waist, hugging him back.

"You did it," Draco was repeating, his face buried in the crook where Harry's neck met his shoulder and Harry found that he couldn't stop blushing. He laughed at Draco's concern.

"Yeah, I did," he said softly. "All thanks to you."

"Who would've thought we'd make such a great team?" Draco winked as he pulled away, but stayed in Harry's arm, his pale face now red.

Harry smirked. "Yeah we're pretty _improbable_ ," He mimicked (terribly- mind you) Draco's French.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Git."

"Prat."

"Friend."

" _Best_ friend."

Draco laughed. "Smooth, Potter."


End file.
